


Holding Your Hips, I Hold the Wheat In Its Fields Again

by madamsledge



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Antisocial Character, F/M, Groping, Reader-Insert, Steamy, Suggestive Themes, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 13:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamsledge/pseuds/madamsledge
Summary: Johnny Martin is not a social creature, and has some salacious ideas for how to get you to stay in for the evening.





	Holding Your Hips, I Hold the Wheat In Its Fields Again

“I’m begging you,” he said, this time with his hands clasped beneath his chin. “Please? C'mon. Yeah? No.”

You chuckled, turned your back to him so that he could see. “Zip me, please. You need some communication courses, it sounds as if you’ve forgotten how to string together a sentence.”

“Is that what needs to go down? ‘Cause if so…” John didn’t zip your dress, didn’t stand. He held your waist firmly in both hands and kissed up the notches of your spine. “I can make you forget how to make words do the thing.”

You felt how his fingertips curved against your belly through the fabric and thought perhaps he was capable of such things. He moved slightly to kiss the tip of your shoulder blade and, still receiving no complaints, no gentle nudge of your elbow to his job to tell him to knock it off, Johnny skirted one hand up to cover your breast.

“Joke’s on you, asshole,” you said, although it definitely wouldn’t fool him, not with that tremble of breath in your words. “I still remember how to make words do the thing.”

Johnny pressed his lips between your shoulder blades and yanked you down into his lap. “Joke’s on you, asshole. I ain’t done with you yet.”

Your entire consciousness soon became focused on what John Martin could make you feel with his hands. Your heart began to bounce harder and harder inside your chest, and all he was doing thus far was kissing your back and cupping your breast through the dress you’d chosen for that night. When he squeezed gently, you felt a sort of chill run along your thigh, as if a finger running down its side.

Johnny kissed the back of your neck now, right where you needed him to, right where you always told him to. It was pulling out the big guns, so to speak, John Martin declaring war on this night out and showing you who would win. Suddenly, he grasped both of your hips in a tight grip, right where they met your thighs, and his fingers dug gently into your skin through the skirt. Using that leverage, he pulled you in, your back to his chest, grinding up against you in an obscene manner that made you both blush and curse with frenzied delight.

Just when you were about to turn around, give in, he felt that shift in your body begin, stopped you.

“Hold on, hold up,” he mumbled against the skin below your ear. He was holding you by the tops of your thighs now, an expert grip to both keep you from moving and make you tremble with want. “I need something first.”

“What?” You panted, but immediately began to nod. “Yeah, yeah, what do you need?”

“I just need to hear something from you before I turn you over and start to fuck the living daylights out of you.”

You swallowed. “O-okay.”

He kissed below your ear again. “John…”

“John…” You tried to predict what would come next. “John…”

“John, you don’t have to socialise tonight.”

Oh, that fucker. He’d won this battle, but the war was not lost. You swallowed again as your diaphragm worked. “John, you don’t have to socialise tonight.”

Johnny chuckled darkly against your skin. “Good girl.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on tumblr as warmommy and post my work much more on there!


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